Around the spaces I hear his breathing.
Beyond the rushing crowd I feel his warmth.
He’s far yet I know he’s near.
Somehow I live without being noticed, I believed, yet somehow I know someone is watching.
I take another step and it reverberated like inside a cave and it seems to me that it’s heard.
I smell his sweat, he’s coming after me
so I get stuck for a moment waiting for that hand to grip my wrist yet again,
it is only silence and strangers I witnessed when I came to my senses.
I flash a smile thinking he might see it for I whisper to myself – he’ll come when the time is right.
So until then, I still believe, someone is coming.
He’s near and far, vigilant and staring,
so if he may, I want him to know…
I am waiting.
Leave a Reply